We drove to the mountains this past weekend and our truck was murdering butterflies who were out en mass. I felt helpless, cruel for existing; trapped in a world system I didn’t design and don’t know how to escape. Seeing their wasted beauty smashing on the glass made me think of other life that never get to fly because someone or something bigger comes along and thoughtlessly plows over their dreams. Wow huh? I promise I’m filled with joy like 80% of the time.

I also feel sad when I’m rinsing berries and one falls down the drain. I think of how long it took that little guy to sprout from a seed, push through the soil, grow on a vine and become fruit. Then I think of the worker who picked and crated it; the long, probably hot journey it made on some truck, only to be jostled around on a supermarket shelf by gropey hands, shoved into my shopping bag and allowed to carelessly roll alone into a dark abyss.

from love:
It’s beautiful and the butterflies and berries story rounded out everything and made me just sit and smile and bathe in your words. Read it again. Same. *deep happy sigh* Thank you. Thanks for reading my rambling thoughts. I really love how you write. You bend my brain in the nicest ways.
♥. Niki

from fear:
By the fourth line, I began to wonder if you were writing about me. The first few didn’t fit for sure but, “Vying for cheap significance which is safer than risking failure at being loved for who we are…”

It’s fine. Thanks E. The fear part — just hoping I don’t show up that way, but I know I used to. I’m trying and mostly succeeding at not speaking from fear, at least not too loud, but since I obsessively deconstructed your poem today, I thought you’d like to see what I wrote). ^_~ ♥.

I lived from fear for most of my life too Niki. You show up at pure compassion and insight as far as I can see. There’s nothing wrong with obsessive deconstruction, haha. Just means you’re awake, which is great! I loved hearing your insights.